The Vision of Elijah Berl

"This is easy, doing things, when some one tells you what to do and what for."

"Thanks! You are original and independent. So am I." With reckless daring she freed her arm from Winston's detaining hand, and before he could prevent, she was skipping over the dizzy walk far ahead.

"Stop, Helen, stop! It's dangerous!" His voice was commanding.

"I know it is. That's where the fun comes in." Over her shoulder she flung him a mocking glance from reckless eyes.

Winston dared make no quick move that would increase her danger. He could not understand the spirit of bravado that had come over her. A sigh of intense relief escaped him as she grasped one of the staying ropes and swung inside the enclosure, which, hanging far out over the abyss, railed in the space where the last stone was to be laid.

"It's no credit to you," he said sternly, "that your childish prank hasn't ended in tragedy."

Helen was conscious of a creeping thrill as she looked into Winston's eyes. They were like poles of a dynamo, with thousands of volts of energy waiting to leap out, if the safety line was crossed. She felt as if she were dangerously near the line.

"Be thankful for your mercies," she said lightly. "No tragedy has happened."

Winston wanted to say more, but an expectant crowd was waiting.

"Well, go ahead," he said. "You're in command now."

"I don't know where to begin, but I'm not old enough yet not to take a dare."

Out on one of the abutments, a great derrick rose; near its foot an engineer stood with his hand on the throttle of an engine. Helen waved her hand, looking defiantly at Winston.

There came the short, sharp bark of the engine, the groaning of rope and timber as the locking stone swung in the air, turned, poised high above them; them slowly began to sink to its position. Under Winston's directions, her small, firm hands guided the great block, as it settled, then came to a rest. The fall ropes slackened, and Helen unclasped the tackle. Amidst the cheers of the watchers on the abutments, the boom of the derrick swung free. The last stone had been laid in the Sangre de Cristo dam.

Helen turned to Winston. Her great, black eyes were solemn.

"It is finished now, isn't it Ralph?"

"It is."

Helen sighed deeply. It suggested relief from a long, anxious strain.

"Thunder and Mars, Helen! Isn't there anything more in life for you? I can imagine Alexander heaving that sigh when he realized that he'd done the whole world."

"That's where Alexander and I separate. I'm relieved, not regretful."

Winston spoke with feeling.

"It must be a relief, Helen. No one has done more for this work than you."

Helen's reply was unguarded.

"I wasn't thinking of myself."

Winston looked up in unfeigned surprise.

"You weren't?"

"Let's not talk of this now. It's finished."

"Tell me what you meant."

Helen looked at Winston. There was a suggestion of yielding in her eyes. Her lips trembled on the verge of speech; then they set, voiceless. Why should she tell Winston of her fears of Elijah? That, driven to desperation, as she knew he was, she feared that in some way he would thwart the work that was now completed.

"Sometime, perhaps; not now." She was not quite herself. "This will stay here forever?" She evidently wished to be reassured.

"Unless something happens."

"But what can happen?" She questioned anxiously.

"A very simple thing might destroy the whole thing in an hour."

Helen's face grew white.

Winston noted the look, but failed to assign the correct reason for it. Helen had given more to the work than he had thought.

"There's no danger, really." Winston spoke with conviction. "It's just this. We've built a rip-rap dam with a stone facing. No amount of water behind it can ever move it. Yet if by chance the water should flow over the crest, it would go in an hour."

"What's to prevent it?" Helen's voice was sharp.

"The waste weir." Winston pointed to the stone paved canal on the far side of the dam. "We know the rainfall here. That spillway will handle twice the amount."

"But if it should become choked?"

"We have the flood gates." Winston pointed to the two great shafts that reached up from the base of the dam, crowned with grooved wheels.

"But suppose they should get wedged so they could not be opened?"

"Then I would advise you to get out of the way! What's the matter, Helen?" Winston grew suddenly conscious that there was more in Helen's persistent questions than appeared on the surface.

Helen did not reply.

"Couldn't all this have been provided against?"

"Yes; but it would have cost more money than we had to put in. It's safe enough, if we watch out."

Helen laid her hand on Winston's arm. Her eyes were deep and anxious.

"Watch out day and night, Ralph. There is danger, grave danger."

Winston was thoroughly aroused.

"You know something that you are concealing from me. Tell me!"

"I have told you enough to put you on your guard. I can't tell you any more. I don't know any more."

Helen turned resolutely toward the foot-way. Winston walked silently beside her. He wanted to know more, but he felt the uselessness of words. As soon as he could free himself from the friends who thronged around him and Helen, he sought out Uncle Sid and told him of Helen's warning.